


Just My Luck

by chibigaara21



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, F/M, Hints of abuse, Insecure Daryl, Insecurity, Verbal and physical abuse-past, hints of Philip Blake & Original Female Character, possible sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-08 13:08:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8846308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibigaara21/pseuds/chibigaara21
Summary: How do you respond when you find out your husband has been cheating on you for years? You torch his clothes and party like you were twenty-one again! Maybe with a little help from the youngest Dixon son.





	1. Realization Sucks

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie, the idea for this came from a weird ass dream where I was married to the Governor from the Walking Dead.

When you’ve been married long as I have, you start to notice things in your partner. Phillip used to be the sweetest man when I met him. Always came home with roses for me and a tender kiss. This was three years ago, and we’ve only been married for about eight years. I miss those five years but at the same time I don’t. Ever since he got a promotion and a raise he’s been a different man. More power hungry and uncaring.

 

“Will you be home for dinner or am I cooking for one again?” I ask from my chair in the living room.

 

Phillip is adjusting his tie as he passes the living room to the front door. He steps back to look at me, “I’m eating at the office so you don’t have to.”

 

I purse my lips and nod, “Okay.”

 

“Bye sweetie.”

 

Yeah, bye. The door clicks indicating that he has finally left the building. It’s exhausting being in the same room with him. He never listens when he’s home and only focuses on himself. Somewhere deep in me still loves the man from eight years ago, but it’s hard to find.

 

By the by, my name’s Iris Blake. Formerly known as Iris Kipling. Quite possible my maiden name may become my normal name again.

 

Today is my day off so I call up some friends to grab a cup of coffee. I tie back my hair and pull on a thin sweater before grabbing my bag and keys. I do a once over of the house- not like I should care, then I leave. I’m sure I looked irritated as fuck since a lot of people were walking around me. I could care less about what other people think when I’m so upset with my husband.

 

Arriving at the nearest coffee shop, I see two of my friends sitting on the patio already. I wave to them before going inside to order. Coffee in hand I drop in my seat with an agitated sigh.

 

“Oh boy,” My friend Carol sings. “It’s started.”

 

Giving her a look with a smile, I lean forward, “He doesn’t even come home for dinner anymore.”

 

Carol sips at her drink, “Well, maybe you should stop making dinner then.”

 

“You of all people should not be telling me that Miss. Casserole of 2015,” I tease.

 

Carol Peletier is a sweet house mom and used to caring for a “loving” husband. She had divorced her ex-husband about five years ago, after we found out about his abusive and violent nature. So, Carol took herself and her daughter Sophia out of that environment and into the loving arms of her new man Ezekiel.

 

She gives me a cute look before speaking, “I’m just saying, if the man doesn’t want to come home don’t bother with him.”

 

“Hey yeah,” My other friend Michonne chimes in looking at me. “Why are you still trying? It’s been three years, girl.”

 

Michonne is another close friend of mine only recently. Carol had a friend who had just been divorced by his wife leaving him for his best friend. From there, she proceeded to introduce the two and they hit off. I then met Michonne through Carol.

 

I rub the side of my cup and sigh hard, “I don’t know. I…I’m just waiting for the old Philip to come walking back through those doors. The one who brought me flowers every night after work, but I know that it’s not happening.”

 

“From experience,” Carol hushes putting a hand on my forearm. “There is a moment in your relationship where you can feel that the emotions and the passion has died. Now you can either take the initiative and reignite it or you can just let it die.”

 

She has a point. Ever since Philip stopped caring about our marriage, I’ve stopped as well. No more romantic gestures like dinner by candlelight, an evening alone together or going out together. That little fire of passion for my husband starts to flicker with ideas of ways to win him over again.

 

“You know, I just might do something then,” I announce. “I, Iris Blake, am going to woo my husband tonight. If it doesn’t work, well it’s time I get my shovel and end it.” Both ladies clap me on my back and we start talking about other things than our relationships.

After our coffee date, we all went our separate ways. I go grocery shopping for my dinner idea for tonight. I know Philip said he was eating at the office but I figured we could have a skype date.

 

Approaching the grocery store, my eyes were greeted by this young-looking man smoking a cigarette leaning against the façade of the building. He looks like a typical redneck, sleeveless shirt, some makings of a beard and a ‘fuck you’ attitude. A few pass him wafting the smoke out of their face but were too frightened by him to say something. Me, of course I’m gonna say something since it’s so rude what he’s doing.

 

Walking up to the entrance with a basket to push around, I clear my throat, “Could you not smoke that here?”

 

“Wha’ are ya? My mother?” He grunts pulling the cigarette away from his lips. I blink a few times and hold a cough as the smoke hits me in the face.

 

I glare at him, “No but I don’t need to be a mother to tell you to fix your attitude.” I pluck the stick between his fingers and snub it out with my shoe.

 

“Hey!” He shouts at me.

 

Putting a finger up, I announce, “I’m in a hurry right now so, when I get done with my shopping you better not be smoking one of these cancer sticks by this door.” He glares at me with thin lips and I make my exit.

 

Inside I look for dinner ingredients- mostly for one in case this doesn’t work. I grab all his favorite foods first then search for my favorites.

 

“Wha’s this?” I hear behind me. Just as I reach for a box of pasta another hand grabs it first. Irritated, I see the redneck fellow from outside.

 

“Really?” I huff. “Are you gonna bully me now?”

 

“Ya started it first lady,” He grins tossing the box back and forth between his hands. “Wha’tcha doin’? Throwin’ some party?”

 

“No,” I hiss grabbing another box from the shelf. “It’s none of your business anyway.” I turn to go down the rest of the aisle but he walks around to block me. We do that awkward annoying dance as I try to get by. Except it wasn’t on accident but full intent on his end. “Would you kindly step aside?”

 

“Why, pardon me ma’am,” He chuckles stepping aside. Grumbling to myself I continue to go down the aisle.

 

“Psst!” Looking up I see an employee wave me over. “Did you do something to piss off the Dixon boys?”

 

“’Dixon boys’?” I question looking over my shoulder. He was still in the aisle and when he spotted me staring, he wiggled his fingers under his chin in a wave to me with a cocky smirk. “I just stomped out his cigarette when he was smoking out front.”

 

“Shouldn’t have done that ma’am,” The employee stresses. “These boys find any excuse to bother the customers. It’s mostly for money reasons or just to get even. So, I think Daryl’s got his hooks into you.”

 

All I do is give an unimpressed look and say this exactly, “He don’t scare me.” I grab a can of tomatoes off the shelf and leave the aisle with the annoying Dixon boy.

 

Now in the bread aisle, I look for something to accompany my dinner. I keep an eye over my shoulder when I turn expecting that man to appear and bother me again. It’s relatively safe and I continue my shopping. I push my cart and it’s stopped by someone and I think I know who it is.

 

“We gotta stop runnin’ into eachothe’ lady.”

 

“Are you sure it’s not you who’s running into me?” I question yanking my cart back.

 

He puts his hands up in defense, “Purely coincid’nce ma’am.”

 

Squinting my eyes at him I ask finally, “What do you want, huh? Money?”

 

“Well if yer sharin’,” the redneck chuckles sticking his hand out lazily.

 

“I ain’t giving you a damn dime,” I grind out. “Go bother someone else boy.”

 

He steps around my cart and sizes me up, “Look ‘ere lady, ya stomped out my cig. Ya get ta pay fer it.”

 

Putting a hand to his chest I push him slightly, “Didn’t your mama tell ya it’s rude to talk to a lady this way.” We stare at each other waiting for the other to break. I smirk at him and walk away. “I’m done shopping anyway. Goodbye Mr. Dixon.” Leaving with a small wave over my shoulder, I push my cart to the checkout counter.

 

Purely exhausted from my adventure at the grocery store, I go home to make my dinner. Set up the table nicely then went to go put on something elegant and sexy. There was this long dress that I was saving for a date night that never came that I decided now was the time to wear it.

 

When everything seemed perfect, I get out my laptop to open skype. Finding Philips work skype I press the video call button and wait. He doesn’t answer the first time which made me more nervous about this. I press again and wait.

 

“Hello?” I hear and see him.

 

I smile and breathe, “Hi sweetie.”

 

“Iris?” He calls out. “W-what are you doing?”

 

I push my laptop away to show him my outfit, “I just wanted to surprise you. I uh, I made dinner hoping I could change your mind and come home.” I watch him through the screen hoping for some hint of interest.

 

“Iris, that’s really sweet but I’m very- “

 

“Philip, are you ready?” I hear a female voice. “We’re gonna be late for our reservation.”

 

Blinking a little I fold my arms together and look at my ‘darling husband’, “Uh…who is that?”

 

“Just one of the girls from the office,” He tells me. “Since we’re working so late we were gonna grab dinner together.”

 

“Yeah but to make a reservation?” I interrogate. I now have my computer in my hands feeling a mix of emotions right now. “Philip, what’s going on?”

 

“Who you talking to sweetie?”

 

“’Sweetie’!?” I shout. The woman reveals herself then covers her mouth and ducks away. “Philip Blake! You better explain yourself or you better not come home!”

 

“Iris! It’s not- “

 

“Iris!? You mean your wife! I thought you were going to leave her!” The woman screams.

 

Appalled and surprised, I say, “Well young lady looks we aren’t the only one’s made a fool tonight!” I then hang up and slam my computer shut to the point of breaking it. I then look at the lovely dinner I had made and go about destroying it. I throw out every bit of his favorite foods and drink while I open a bottle of wine.

 

At the end of the night, my beautiful black dress is covered in a disaster of an idea and there’s a bottle of red in my hand. I’m then left to sob my heart out into my knees.

 

Iris Blake is once again Iris Kipling.


	2. Have a 'Little' Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do I need a permit to set an asshole's shit on fire?

I’ve changed the lock on my front door. If Philip needs to pick up his shit he can get it after I finish packing it up. Even now I’m still being a good wife to him and I hate it.

 

Ever since that night I can’t seem to find what to do with myself. I don’t have a husband to tend to or fall asleep next to. I’ve asked Carol hundreds of times how she did it and all she told me…

 

_Just get back out there, sweetie._

 

I was married for eight years. Hell, I even married young. I’m like in my mid-thirties going on forty, what makes you think I can find someone so easily?

 

After hauling Phil’s shit into my car to drop off at the post office to send to his new place, I needed to stop at the grocery store for food. At least now I can only get the things I like without worrying about Philip’s shit taste.

 

Slamming my door shut after arriving at the store, I can see him again. Daryl Dixon if I remember. He’s doing the exact same shit he did the last time I saw him. Frustrated about a lot of things I decide not to indulge.

 

“Well, look’it lil miss ray of sunshine’s ‘ere,” I hear him sing making a thin layer of smoke float across my face. “Been wonderin’ when ya was gonna show yer damn face round ‘ere.”

 

Side glancing him, I just walk into the store without a single syllable. Not in the mood to be playing merry go round with a redneck today. Just gotta pick up some cleaning supplies, ingredients for dinner and some shampoo. Then I must deliver my bastard husbands shit to him.

 

Groaning audibly, there he is, Daryl Dixon at the end of the makeup aisle smirking at me. He speaks first, “If I didn’ know any better, I was thinkin’ ya didn’ like me or somethin’.”

 

“Go away,” I order making my cart do a complete 360. “I’m not playing with you today.” Shampoo and lady stuff can wait I guess.

 

“I’m jus’ keepin’ ya comp’ny is all,” The Dixon boy explains walking next to me. “So, why’re ya so cross fer?”

 

It wasn’t any of his business about my life outside this marketplace. He doesn’t need to know what happened three weeks ago, with my asshole husband. I’m just so pissed about everything right now that I don’t need him asking about it. I could put on a smile to make it seem like everything was fine, but I’d just be kidding myself and the people around me.

 

So, I give in and say, “My husband has been cheating on me for two years and I just found out a month ago.”

 

It’s a god damn miracle when this guy goes silent after all the shit he’s been putting me through. We continue walking like that until he decides to finally say something.

 

Which was, “Damn lady. That’s some shitty situation ya got ther’.”

 

“Believe me, I know,” I sing with a sigh as I grab some pickles off the shelf. “Eight whole years just to go out like this. Don’t know why I’m telling you this, but whatever.” As I was looking for things _I_ needed, turns out Daryl was tossing shit into my basket. “Hey! Do you mind?”

 

“Nope,” He grins tossing a box of Hostess cupcakes in my basket.

 

“I’m not shopping for you,” I growl taking his crap out. “I’ve got enough to deal with and you aren’t gonna be one of them.”

 

“Why?” The redneck grips the side of his cart while I grip mine while we end up in a staring death match again. “Looks ta me, like ya need some fun.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Daryl tells me to buy everything in the cart and to meet him downtown by the local skin bar as he runs out the store. Growling to no one in particular, I sift through the crap that he put in my basket. Nothing but junk food for days with this man. Feeling obligated to listen to him, I leave the Hostess cupcakes but take out the rest. That’s all he’s getting from me today.

 

Ever since the day I first met Daryl, he’s been nothing but interesting-or annoying, to me. What makes him do the things he does? Who raised him to treat people like this? And why in Sam hill am I doing his damn grocery shopping? It’s a strange day in Georgia indeed.

 

Packing all the groceries into my car, I educate the thought of meeting Mr. Dixon downtown. In my rearview mirror, I peek at the boxes to be carted off to Philip. Cursing to myself, I turn my car on and head to town. I must be out of my mind if I think this is a good idea. I’m definitely gonna need a coffee date when this adventure is over.

 

Looking through downtown trying to spot the only skin bar he could possibly be talking about, I see Daryl doing his wall leaning bit. Parking my car, I get out with my purse, keys, his one grocery item and lock my doors.

 

“’Bout time,” I hear his drawl say. Turning my body to face him, he sticks his hand out. “Got my stuff?”

 

“Here,” I say putting the bag in his hand.

 

“Wher’s the rest of it?” He exclaims searching through the bag as if all his stuff was in there somehow.

 

“That’s all you get,” I declare putting my purse on my shoulder. “Now, what did you want to show me?”

 

Daryl makes an unimpressed look, throws the cupcakes over his shoulder and beckons me to follow him. And I do. Into the skin bar. Oh my god, is he gonna make me look at naked women? I can understand if this his idea of having fun, but there is no way in hell is this fun for me. Until, he goes around the corner of the building and I see some stairs.

 

“I’m not allow’d in durin’ business hours when I’m not helpin’,” He teases me clearly noting my distress.

 

I make an innocent face, “I guess I knew that.”

 

The Dixon boy leads me up the stairs and opens a door. Inside was a one bedroom apartment that needed a mother’s touch, cause Holy Hell, what is that stench!

 

Covering my nose, I ask, “What is that?”

 

“Merle most likely,” Daryl states tossing the single bag onto a counter. “Ya can sit if ya want.”

 

 _Where?_ There is literally no physical object that I can safely sit on that is sanitary. There’s a couch that looks like they plucked it out of an alleyway that was littered with dirty laundry, an easy boy that looks like it only reclines with miscellaneous stains, and their kitchen chairs. One’s missing a damn leg for Christ’s sake.

 

“I’m fine,” I say through my hand. “Uh….do you do this often?”

 

“Oft’n?”

 

“Invite divorced wives into your… apartment?” I hesitate kicking what I hoped was an empty pizza box that had pizza crusts in them and not something that made a scurrying sound.

 

Daryl gives me a smirk, “It’s not ev’ry day that a divorced lady foll’ws me to my apartm’nt.”

 

“Touché Mr. Dixon,” I mumble.

 

“Jus’ Daryl’s fine,” He tells me.

 

I feel so awkward being in this place- for many reasons. I don’t know Daryl outside the supermarket and frankly he’s starting to grow on me. Until he unscrews the cap of some peanut butter in a fluid motion and digs in with his fingers. I gag a little behind my hand.

 

“Uh,” I mumble. “What are …what are we doing here?”

 

“I got a good look at the back of yer car earlier,” He says through the substance in his mouth. “That yer husbands shit?”

 

“Yeah,” I answer. “Why?”

 

“Le’s torch the some bitch,” He grins sinisterly.

 

Let me get this straight. Daryl Dixon just offered me to set my ex-husbands shit on fire in a fit of rage. To commit arson to Philips belongings to get a message across.

 

“Just one box,” I muse.

 

I watch the redneck lick his fingers clean, set the jar down then proceed to dig under one of his cupboards. I’d go and look but this whole apartment freaks me out. Daryl stands up and he’s got a blow torch in his hand.

 

Obviously, we can’t just set my husband’s shit on fire. At least not in the city that is. Daryl suggests we make it a party out of it. Which I don’t really mind, but I don’t know what he means by that. We move from the inside of his apartment to outside to sit on the steps. He gives me a glass with some water in it while he holds a can of beer in his.

 

“Ya go out inv’te some of yer friends and I’ll inv’te Merle,” He states. “We make this shit a bon fire.”

 

“That’s not a bad idea,” I smile. “I’m sure my friends won’t mind seeing Philp’s crap burn.”

 

“Is that his name?” Daryl asks taking a sip. “Sounds like a douche ta me.”

 

I give a look and drink my water, “You’re not wrong.” I stare into the street as the muffled music from the strip club below us fills the silence. Us just sitting there got me thinking. I knew Daryl as some obnoxious redneck that bullied me when I did my shopping but now he’s helping me create arson. “Why are you doing this?” He tilts his head to side glance me. “Helping me feel better about my divorce by burning my ex’s junk.”

 

“Dunno,” He huffs his lips barely on the rim of his can. “I know what it’s like ta liv’ wit’ an assh’le I guess.”

 

Thus, opening my inbox of questions about a certain Daryl Dixon. Questions that I’m gonna have to ask later. I go down to my car and pluck one of the boxes from my car and bring it up to his apartment for later. I tell him I’ve got to put groceries away so I had leave, but before I go I leave my number with him in case he needs to get a hold of me.

 

“So, this means we good lady?” The redneck muses waving the little paper in the air.

 

Smiling and rolling my eyes I add, “Depends, I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

 

I go downstairs to my car and just sit in my seat smiling. I haven’t smiled in days and it takes an annoying guy like him to make it happen. Starting my car I back out and head home thinking of stuff to do for tonight.

 

“He just does what he wants,” I chuckle into my phone pressed between my ear and shoulder. I’m currently on the phone with Michonne asking her about tonight. “It’s a little refreshing.”

 

“Sounds to me like you’ve got a crush on the guy,” She sings on her end.

 

“I don’t have a crush on Daryl Dixon. I mean if anything I find him endearing,” I add. I’m in my kitchen making some stuff to serve at the bonfire tonight. My famous- well famous to me, blackberry cobbler, some cornbread and a sweet potato pie. Since it was a party with friends, I feel obligated to make a huge spread. Especially since it was my husband’s clothes we were burning. “Are you and Rick coming?”

 

“Yeah,” Michonne replies. “He has to drop Carl off at his mother’s first but we’ll be there. What? No, I’m not- Really?” I chuckle on my end as I hear Rick in the background. “Rick wants to know if you got a permit for this bonfire.”

 

“Well, tell Rick,” I hum putting my cobbler in my oven. “Do I really need a permit to burn some asshole’s shit?”

 

There’s a long silence then I hear a deep voice, “Carry on.”

 

Michonne and I just crack up in laughter. I give her the directions to where the burning will happen then I proceed to call Carol to ask her to bring her famous cookies.

 

When it got a little darker out I went through my closet for something comfortable to wear. Probably a t-shirt and jeans with my thin sweater to go over. From my closet, I can hear my phone going off and I run to answer it. When I find my phone the caller ID showed an unknown number so I answer it.

 

“The call trying to reach you is from a payphone, if you so choose would you like to continue?” A female voice says.

 

“Uh…sure,” I reply and wait a few seconds.

 

Suddenly I hear loud upbeat, and I admit sexy music then a voice, “’Ello? Iris?”

 

“Daryl?” I question kinda shouting.

 

“Yeah. It’s me,” He answers loud as well trying to go over the music. “List’n I was callin’ ta see what I should bring over to the bonfire.”

 

Smirking to myself I say, “How about those Hostess cupcakes from earlier.”

 

“No way man. That’s my dinner,” He laughs. “Well my broth’r Merle is gonna bring his shine is that all right?”

 

“What? _Moon_ shine?” I ask. “Uh… sure. I don’t know if everyone else is gonna want a sip but okay.”

 

“If none of yer friends want a drink, Merle’ll just finish it,” Daryl declares. “Also, we’re gonna need a lift since I can’t carry yer shit on my bike.”

 

“It’s not my shit,” I announce going over to my oven and checking my cobbler. “It’s my shit husband’s shit.”

 

Daryl laughs over the phone, “Tha’s true. Well I guess I’ll see ya later.”

 

“Yeah. Bye Mr. Dixon,” I tease before hanging up.

 

Oh man tonight is gonna be so much fun.

 

Once I have all my food in order I pack everything up and head down to my car. Remembering where Daryl lives I go there first. When I pull up to the strip club, the neon lights are on and there are lots more people than there were from this afternoon. I go around the corner and walk up the steps to the door of the Dixon home.

 

Waiting patiently, the door is opened but it wasn’t Daryl who answered but whom I was assuming was the infamous Merle. Thin hair, hints of stubble, a wife beater with a short-sleeved over-shirt. He’s got a bottle in his hand clearly getting his night started.

 

“Why hello ther’ lil lady,” He says in a purr. “Ya Daryl’s friend?”

 

Furrowing my brows, a little I nod, “Uh yeah. Are…are you guys ready?”

 

“’Ey lil brother,” Merle shouts from the door. “Yer lady friend is ‘ere.”

 

“I wouldn’t say _lady_ friend but-“ He just starts to walk away from me to go further into their home. “Oh. Okay yeah that’s fine.” Soon enough, I’m greeted by a familiar face. I smile at him, “Merle seems charming.”

 

“Yeah charming as a piece of shit,” Daryl mutters dragging the box I left behind with his leg. “Merle! Le’s go!”

 

Man, if Daryl was a riot then Merle and Daryl together was a hoot. Merle was a constant chatterbox about absolutely nothing. It might be the drink but man the spewing nonsense coming from him is hilarious.

 

“Is he always like this?” I question.

 

“Ya wou’dn’t believe me if I told ya, but his bullshit makes sense sometimes,” Daryl replies.

 

Shaking my head I try to listen to Daryl’s directions to where we were going to have this bon fire.

 

“Wha’s this?” I hear Merle say from the backseat. “Smells like mom’s home cookin’. Tha’s if the broad knew how ta cook.”

 

“Hey, don’t touch that yet!” I shout. “That’s for everyone not just you.”

 

He puts his hands up, “Ooh, sorry there, ma’am. But I gots first dibs on this crumbley stuff.”

 

Apparently, there was this pit where people went to burn old tires that Daryl suggest where we go. I’m familiar of it but wasn’t too knowledgeable of the location. It was on the outskirts of town as to keep embers from blowing into town.  Upon arriving, I see a familiar truck and pull up to it.

 

We three get out, Daryl hauling the object that had us gathered together over. Carol and Michonne rush over to give me a hug. I then go about introducing everyone to the Dixon boys.

 

“Guys,” I say with a sigh. “This Daryl.”

 

“Oh shit,” Michonne says aloud. “You mean this guy was the one bugging you at the store?”

 

“The one an’ only,” Daryl says with pride. He dumps the box in the middle of the group. “Tha’s my brother Merle.”

 

“Enchante,” Merle says in a mock bow.

 

Michonne cocks a brow, “Oh I’ve heard of your ignorant ass.”

 

He just smirks at her, “My reputation proceeds me.”

 

I go to the back of my car to grab the food and bring it out for everyone. The group starts to crowd around.

 

“Rick,” I call out. “Did you bring your grill?”

 

“Yes, I did,” He replies to me. “Got it all set up if you want to get started.”

 

Smiling wide I stick my hand out, “Daryl.” He looks at me with a smile. “My weapon please.” Shaking his head, he hands me the torch and helps me ignite it. “Ladies and Gentlemen! Today we say goodbye…to an asshole. Philip Blake!” I point the torch at the box. “You will not be missed!” Then I set the box a flame. Granted I should have poured some gasoline or something on it since it took a few minutes to catch flame. When it did everyone cheered and I turned the torch off.

 

“Le’s get this party start’d!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to at least set his shit on fire before I end this chapter.


	3. Breath of Fresh Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl shows me something "fun".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this is a short chapter because I ran out of ideas for it. Believe me there will be better ones.

The looming anger in me dissipated after that night. I can focus on my work now and even better focus on myself. It’s all thanks to a certain town redneck. All of my friends seem to have gotten close to him and his brother- well maybe just Daryl not so much Merle. Rick definitely encountered the two in the past, mostly Merle but Daryl on account of his older brother. Makes sense how Rick knew them so well at the bon fire.

 

“Yes,” I groan into my phone. “I’m gonna be there. After all it is my separation from you.”

 

Philip was giving me an update about our divorce trial. He thinks it’s unnecessary and that he’s “learned” from his mistakes. I don’t believe one bit so I’m pushing for this trial. If he’d talked to me two weeks ago before I torched his shit, then maybe I would have given him a chance. But for now, he can fuck off.

 

I hang up my phone without so much as a goodbye and walk out of my office. Saying goodbye to my coworkers my phone goes off again.

 

Letting out a huge sigh, I answer, “Hello?”

 

“The call trying to reach you is from a payphone, if you so choose would you like to continue?” A familiar robotic female voice announces.

 

Raising my brows, I reply, “Yes.”

 

“Iris?” I hear the southern drawl mixed with upbeat sexy music.

 

Laughing loud as I go to my car, “I really need to get you your own phone.” I get him to laugh as I open my door and take a seat. “So, what did you need my redneck friend?”

 

“Wan’a go huntin’ wit’ me and Merle?” He asks.

 

Looking at myself, me in my business dress and pumps, I question, “Uh…I don’t think I’d be very good at it.”

 

Daryl chuckles, “Eh ya can’t be that bad.”

 

And here I am, fighting off mosquitos, constantly being told to be quiet by either Dixon brother, and sweating off in the heat. If this is going to be a regular thing with us, I’m gonna need better shoes than my sneakers I use for walks.

 

“Hurry up,” Daryl orders in a hushed tone.

 

“I’m trying, I’m trying,” I huff trying to step over some rocks. “Don’t know why I gotta join you for.”

 

“Ya said ya want’d ta have fun, r’ght?” He chuckles as I nod. “This is my kinda fun.”

 

Smacking my shoulder killing a mosquito in the process, I grumble, “Getting eaten alive by bugs may be your kinda fun, but I’m an indoor cat. I like my food in cans and I bathe in the sun.”

 

That gets a laugh from Merle who was further ahead of us. He turns his head to look at us, “Well Miss Kitty Cat, this be yer time ta shine.”

 

Daryl and I walk up closer to him to find a wild doe wandering through a clearing. Wait, what does he mean my time to shine? I hear shuffling then out of nowhere there’s this heavy ass crossbow in my arms.

 

“Whoa! Hang on!” I panic. They hush me as to not scare the deer. “I can’t shoot that.”

 

Daryl puts his hands underneath mine to prop up the crossbow for better aim, “Yeah ya can.” He steps around me, his hands still on mine, and starts to position my arms.

 

“Gettin’ nice and cozy, huh lil brother,” Merle chuckles off to the side.

 

“Shut up, Merle,” the younger Dixon mutters.

 

Merle wasn’t entirely wrong about the situation. It felt to me that Daryl got really cozy putting his arms around me just to help me shoot a deer. Which I’m still having second thoughts about this. It was my fault agreeing to this.

 

“Um…Daryl,” I whisper. He looks at me over my shoulder. “I-I…really don’t want to do this…”

 

“Fine,” He says firmly taking the bow from me and pulling his arms away from my body. “I’ll do it.”

 

I pull my arms to my chest as I get casted aside by him. He kneels with his bow and waits. The pure focus on his face as he waits for his chance was mesmerizing. I’ve seen him do some ridiculous things and say something equally absurd but this had to be the most surreal thing he’s done around me. In a second, he holds his breath and I hear the snap of the string. My heart sank when I hear the painful sounds of the doe and the thud of the body.

 

“Nice one lil brother,” Merle compliments moving to clap his brother on the shoulder. “We’re eatin’ good ton’ght.”

 

A weird shiver came up my body realizing that they had killed something so sweet and innocent just like that. Daryl stands up with a breath and looks towards me. His eye hard and focus as if he was still looking for something to hunt. I just take a step back and leave to go find my way back to my car.

 

I did sign up for this. I knew I was going to see them shoot something. That’s what hunting was. Killing. I’m not used to seeing something gunned down so close to me like that. Especially something so sweet. At my car, I just open the driver’s side and just sit there catching my breath. If he’s gonna keep asking me to go on these trips with him, I need to toughen up.

 

“’Ey,” I hear someone call. Looking up through my window Daryl and Merle were walking towards me carting the dead thing behind them. They dump the poor thing into the back of a truck Merle borrowed just for today. Daryl claps his hands while walking over to my side. He leans on the open door looking down to me. “Ya g’nna be okay?”

 

Rubbing the back of my neck I chuckle nervously, “Sorry. I’m not used to killing my dinner. It’s usually killed for me.”

 

“If it both’rs ya that much” He huffs. “Then ya don’t need ta come.”

 

“Really?” I ask a little too excited. He makes face at me that was half smirk and half disapproving glare. “I mean… oh no. That sucks.”

 

Daryl just hits me on my shoulder and laughs, “Yer fine. Well, Merle and I gotta get bambi’s ma to the butcher. I’ll see ya lat’r.”

 

Waving goodbye to both Dixon boys, I slump down in my chair. I let air escape through my lips and start up my car. I need a coffee or stronger.

 

After half a bottle of calamine lotion for my skin, I go to work the next day feeling a little beaten up. That hike through the woods was tough on my calves and feet. I haven’t had to exert myself like that in a long time. I gotta start my calisthenics again.

 

Without realizing it, I sound like a lame old house wife again. Shuddering for no reason, I get to work. I’ve been so used to my comfy southern living with a husband that I don’t know how to party. But since I don’t have one anymore, I’m free to do as I please. Hell, I could go out drinking tonight even if I have a meeting tomorrow. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t get too carried away.

 

“You’ve been hanging around Daryl a lot lately,” Carol hums over her coffee rim.

 

“Half the time is him calling me out to weird ass places,” I mutter putting a hand to my forehead. “Just the other day he took me hunting with Merle and shot a deer. Right in front of me.”

 

She laughs, “Well, he is a hunter and you chose to befriend the only two redneck hunters in town.”

 

“Just my luck, huh?” I laugh. “How have you and Ezekiel been doing? Sophia?”

 

“Well, we get a lot of free passes to the zoo where he works,” Carol grins. “Sophia just about loves it. No matter how many times we go, she never gets tired of it.”

 

Chuckling lightly, I sip at my drink, “Must be nice.”

 

“You know,” She adds. “We haven’t had you over for dinner in a long time. Why don’t you come over tonight?”

 

“I’d love too,” I smile. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had one of your home cooked meals.”

 

Carol laughs lightly, “Well if you miss them that much how come you don’t come over more often? Or are you too distracted by your new friend?”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I blush lightly shoving her at the shoulder.

 

“Oh nothing. How about you bring him too,” She continues.

 

“And Merle?”

 

She makes an unsure face and shrugs, “I guess. I don’t know how Ezekiel’s gonna feel about it…but sure.”

 

Drinking from my cup again, I smile, “Well then you have yourself one interesting dinner party.”

 

“Just make sure he doesn’t bring moonshine like he did at the bonfire,” She stresses to me.

 

Oh god, I really hope he doesn’t. We finish our coffee date with an exchange of recipes for new desserts. I’ve seen the Dixon’s at a barbeque and out hunting. How are they at a family dinner? What could go wrong?


	4. Will It Hurt?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I lost a bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna post this chapter later tonight but decided to post it early.

Well that dinner was almost a complete disaster. It was thanks to Daryl that Carol would even consider inviting the two- or just him, over for dinner again.

 

“How often does Merle talk with his foot in his mouth?” I chuckle to Daryl. We’re sitting on his staircase again having a chat and for him to have a smoke.

 

Daryl blows smoke out from his lips, “Ev’ryday.” This makes me erupt into a fit of laughs.

 

“Did you see how mad Ezekiel was getting when Merle was going on about listening to a black man?” I bring up resting a hand on my forehead and an elbow on my knee. “I never thought I could hear an actual person say that.”

 

Daryl’s chuckling at his own brother’s stupidity alongside with me. We then sit there staring into the street watching cars pass. This was nice. Being with another man and not getting immediately infuriated with him. Even though that was the basis of our relationship when we first met but you know what I mean.

 

“’Ey,” I hear him call out of nowhere. “Wanna go somewhere?”

 

Of course, I don’t say no and just follow him. He goes inside his apartment for a few minutes and comes out with his crossbow. I’m taken back to that hunting trip he took me on and question my decision.

 

He smiles lightly at me, “I ain’t takin’ ya huntin’ if tha’s what yer worried about.” A breath escapes me and I feel relieved. “Scaredy cat.” We go down to where the parking lot was and I jingle my keys in my hand. “Uhn-uh. We’re takin’ my bike.” I look at him as he kicks a leg over his bike and put his crossbow safely to the side on a latch. This man is going to kill me. He stares at me and pats the seat behind him. “I ain’t gonna bite.” Taking a deep breath, I lock up my car and go over to him. His bike is very old and looks like he’s the only one who’s been taking care of it. The handlebars rise up so that his arms aren’t levelled but makes him look like a punk.

 

“Do you have a helmet at least?” I ask nervously trying to climb on. Once on, I try and find a comfortable position.

 

Daryl just grabs my legs and pulls me forward a little, “Nope. Wrap yer arms around me tight.”

 

Looking around, I try and figure out a better solution. Then he starts the damn thing and my arms flew around his waist like a boa constrictor. He laughs loud over the roar of his bike and backs out. He starts slow just to get some momentum going, but when the bike starts moving he revs it and speeds his way down the street. I want to scream my lungs out but I know I’d look like a fool. Instead I go with what he told me and held onto his waist tighter.

 

The sound of the wind whisking past my face terrified me. I’ve driven with my windows down but this takes it to a whole new level. Just by the sheer speed and acceleration felt like if I made a wrong move I could go flying.

 

Lifting my head to talk over his shoulder, I ask, “Where are you taking me?”

 

“It’s a surprise!”

 

“You’re not gonna shoot an apple off my head, are you?”

 

“Tha’s not a bad idea!” He jokes. Well, I think he jokes.

 

With my head up, I get the chance to watch the town whiz past me. In a car you get the frame to block some parts of your view but on a bike, you get a full 360. I can see all the shops and houses we pass and the further away we get I see all the tree lines and open fields. Plus, that fresh air feels wonderful.

 

I feel Daryl’s body tremble in a chuckle as he says, “Now yer getting’ it.”

 

Rolling my eyes, I just hold on for dear life and enjoy the ride. Which ended rather quickly since we arrived at our destination. What a bummer. He helps me off and my inner thighs are vibrating, along with my butt.

 

“That’ll wear off,” He shrugs while plucking his bow off his bike.

 

Taking note of that, I look at where we stopped. Oh, this seems typical to me. The local gun rink. I’ve seen the outside but never the inside. Of course, Daryl chooses to take me here. A recently divorced woman in a gun rink with a redneck hunter. Coming soon to a theatre near you.

 

We walk inside and it smells like steel and what I assume is gunpowder. I can hear distant shots being fired off in the distance. On the walls, there are many forms of rifles that people can shoot off. Something a woman wearing a sweater around her waist would be caught doing.

 

“Hey Daryl,” I hear a female voice call out. “Who’s your friend?”

 

Together we walk up to a counter where there is African American woman standing with her arms folding over the counter. She has her hair pulled back into a neat bun, wearing a fade blue tank top and fingerless gloves.

 

Daryl drops his bow onto the counter, “’Ey Sasha. This is Iris.”

 

I wave shyly, “Hi.”

 

She looks to me with a small smirk then focuses on Daryl, “Didn’t think you had friends.” She then looks to his bow. “The usual?”

 

“Naw,” He says. “Just the tune up and set her up with something easy.” Daryl gestures to me with his thumb. “Took ‘er huntin’ and she turned squeamish on me and Merle.”

 

“Maybe hunting isn’t exactly first date material,” Sasha teases.

 

“Hi,” I spoke up. “Uh…yeah. Totally new to the whole redneck as a friend thing but…what’s going on?”

 

The lady just puts a hand on Daryl’s crossbow, “Honey, your gonna learn to shoot.”

 

With that, Daryl and I are geared up with protective glasses and sound sensitive headphones. I break out into a fit of laughs with how stupid Daryl looked with bright yellow sound headphones. He then starts laughing at me when I almost fall over when they put gun in my hand.

 

The man coordinating us is a big man. Like muscles and everything kind of big man. Makes Daryl and I seem like ants. He’s got ginger red hair cut into a crewcut and a horseshoe mustache to match. He’s dressed like he just got done with the military but we all know he’s been done for years. His name is Abraham and he’s Sasha, the woman at the counter.

 

“Daryl,” I call out to hesitantly.

 

“He can’t hear you sweetheart,” Abraham shouts. “You gotta shout.”

 

Nodding, I turn to him, “Daryl!”

 

“What!”

 

“Why do I have to do this again!” I scream.

 

He walks over to me and stands in my cubicle, “Because, if we’re gonna be friends, ya gotta know how ta shoot.”

 

“That makes no sense!”

 

“Jus’ shoot the damn targets woman!” Daryl shouts patting me hard on my lower back.

 

Abraham replaces him and he nearly takes up the whole space, “Okay, sugar you’re gonna aim at the paper target and just shoot.” He then runs through the mechanisms of the gun I was working with. “We gave you a baby gun, which is a standard pistol most officers use. This here is the safety. You’ll know your safety is on when there is a red dot. No red dot and you’re ready to fire.”  I listen nervously, while out of the corner of my eye I see Daryl just watching amused. “For safety, I don’t want you swinging this thing around. There are real bullets in here. I don’t want to be mopping up someone’s insides tonight. Capiche?”

 

“O-okay…” I reply weakly. He then proceeds to put me in position. Feet planted firmly to the ground, dominant hand near the trigger, least dominant hand on the butt of the handle and arms out in front.

 

“Whenever you’re ready,” He shouts walking away.

 

Whenever I’m ready. When I’m ready. Okay. There’s a gun in my hand and I have to shoot it. Here we go. Closing my eyes and looking away I pull the trigger and feel the recoil followed by the sound of the bullet escaping. In a panic I fumble with the gun dropping it on the counter and step back.

 

Abraham and Daryl are laughing behind me making my cheeks heat up in embarrassment. I go over to Daryl and smack him in the shoulder. He feigns injury and steps up to the cubicle.

 

“I’ll show ya how a real man fires a gun,” He beams with confidence. Folding my arms, I lean back and watch. There’s that laser focus look he puts on. I then hear the gunshots resounding in the room and Daryl’s shoulders bouncing back from each recoil. There’s something about a man firing a gun that can get a woman hot and bothered. Especially when the man is as good looking as Daryl Dixon.

 

Yes, I am admitting my small attraction to the young redneck but I won’t let it escalate any further than simple eye candy. When it looks like he emptied the clip, I go over to see his shots.

 

He points out first, “There’s yer shot.” I look at way off to the side just barely on the edge of the paper target was a half circle. “And…those’re mine.” Following his hand, I see how he emptied half into the chest and half into the head.

 

“Show off,” I insult. “You were at an advantage since you know how to shoot already.”

 

Daryl looks me in the eyes and says this, “Bet’cha I can shoot with my eyes closed and I’d still be able to hit my target better than you.”

 

Squinting my eyes, I add, “That’s very dangerous but you’re on.”

 

Abraham chimes in, “I’m all for a good bet but again the lil lady is right. Unless Sasha wants to get in on this action.” He leans over to look at his girl and she walks over to put her two cents in.

 

“My money is on Daryl then,” She says.

 

I scoff at her, “What happened to girl power?”

 

She gives me a look and I feel stupid for saying that. Sasha then proceeds with, “When you know Daryl for as long as I have, you’re gonna want to pick him.”

 

Abraham then folds his arms and smiles, “Then I’m with the lil lady.”

 

“So, it’s settl’d,” Daryl grins picking up the gun and loading a new clip into it. “Gimme a blindold.” Sasha pulls a handkerchief out of her back pocket and Daryl ties it around his eyes.

 

“Can you see me?” I ask holding his face in front of mine.

 

“I can see yer boobs when I look down an’ tha’s about it,” He chuckles.

 

I blush and push him towards the counter, “Just take your aim already.”

 

“Which reminds me,” He mentions. “What do I get when I win?”

 

“ _If_ you win,” I reply. “I get to listen to whatever you say and vice versa.”

 

“Ah, the good ol’ teenage bet huh?” Abraham chuckles looking over to Sasha. Who in tells just shakes her head to him.

 

“Fine by me,” Daryl continues. It takes him a second and suddenly he’s firing.

 

 We’re leaving the gun range all smelling like gunpowder. Daryl picks up his crossbow from the counter and high fives Sasha. I’m off to the side still astounded with what just happened. This man is not normal. He managed to empty his entire clip- blindfolded, dead center into the paper target.

 

Daryl laughs, “Have fun Abe!”

 

Abraham just waves solemnly from behind the counter as we exit the building.

 

“How the fuck did you even do that!” I shout going over to his bike.

 

He tucks his bow into the latch and sits on the seat of his bike, “I’m jus’ that much more awesome than ya.”

 

“Oh, shut up,” I chuckle sitting next to him. “Since I lost, what do you want me to do?” An evil smirk plays across his lips and I know it’s not gonna be good.

 

Suddenly, the redneck is dragging me to a nearby tattoo parlor. No really, he’s dragging me. My feet are being pulled across the gravel as I protest.

 

Holding onto his arm and my own, I struggle, “Daryl! No! No please! I can’t!”

 

“Ya lost the bet,” He announces. “Ya gotta pay.”

 

“Not with my skin!” I plead. My feet knock against the sidewalk and I trip into him making him catch me. I continue to pull against him. “I can’t get a tattoo.”

 

He laughs opening the door, “It’s fine. Ya’ll just cover it with those fancy pants suits ya wear.”

 

Inside the shop there are guys that are looking at us or rather me. I guess I look like a crazy person to them.

 

“’Ey guys!” Daryl greets like it was a normal store. They all cheer back to him. “My friend ‘ere lost a bet! So, le’s hook’er up with some ink!” More cheering goes on and I’m being pushed to the back of the room.

 

“Daryl!” I shout as he puts me in the chair. An African American man comes to sit by me and smiles a gap tooth grin. I reach out and grab Daryl by his forearm feeling an unsettling feeling come over me as the realization of the situation became real.

 

He nods his head to the man, “’Sup T-Dog.”

 

“Hey Daryl,” The man greets. “So, she lost a bet? Man, what did she do to deserve this?”

 

I nod frantically, “See? Yeah! So, we should just go!” I go to stand but both men push me back down.

 

T-Dog looks me in the eyes with mock sadness, “Now hold on. You did agree to the terms and frankly, he’s gotta collect. What do you want on her?”

 

I flick my head towards the younger Dixon, “You better not pick something obscene!”

 

Daryl picks up a black book and starts to flip through the pages, “Naw, can’t do that. Maybe I should jus’ get my face put on yer butt or something.”

 

“So, you’d be a literal pain in my ass?” I ask agitated. This gets a hearty laugh from the room.

 

“Maybe I will pick something stupid,” The redneck declares glaring at me. He keeps flipping through the pages making me nervous with each sound it makes. He then smacks down a finger and makes an ‘Ah hah’ sound. Without letting me see, he shows T-Dog the picture.

 

T-Dog smiles while nodding his head, “Yeah. I like that one.”

 

“What? What did he pick?” I ask in a panic. T-Dog doesn’t answer me just starts getting his station set up. I reach out to grab for Daryl as I watch him pull out a tattoo gun, he takes my hand.

 

I look to my hand then to him. His wicked smile disappeared and is replaced with something soft. It almost calmed me down from the whole situation, but then I’m brought back down when I hear the whir of the machine.

 

I squeeze my eyes shut and groan, “Oh, why did I let you talk me into everything today?” A cool feeling rests on my forearm and I’m guessing that’s the stencil. This is my chance to get a look at what he picked. When I lean over to look, his hand slaps across my eyes and blinds me. “Ow!”

 

“Sorry. But ya can’t see til T-Dog is done,” Daryl announces.

 

Great. Now, I don’t know what’s going on my body and I have to sit through it in the dark.

 

“Now relax honey,” T-Dog coos. “This is gonna pinch.”

 

Squeezing my eyes and Daryl’s hand, T-Dog starts. It was like a million scratches going off on my skin as he makes his lines. In some places, it felt like being repeatedly stabbed by a sharp pen. At some point, Daryl’s thumb was rubbing my forehead, which felt nice and relaxing to me. Took my mind off the barrage of torture happening on my forearm.

 

Daryl begins to talk to me, “Nervous?”

 

“No,” I say with a nervous chuckle. “I always let a strange redneck man choose my tattoos for me.”

 

“Is that sarcasm I’m getting a hint of?”

 

I state, “Of course, I’m nervous! I don’t know what you picked for my first tattoo.”

 

“Funny, I always pictur’d ya as one of those, pinstripe tramp stamp tattoo kinda ladies,” He chuckles. “Ya sure ya don’t got one from college er something?”

 

Squeezing his hand tight after feeling a weird angled scratch, I hiss in pain, “I’m sure.”

 

I felt like I was in that chair for hours. My skin feels horrible and irritated. Gives me the urge to scratch it. I hear the weird plastic sound of saranwrap and then feel it on my skin. Probably to protect my tattoo. T-Dog lets out a sigh then claps.

 

He speaks, “Ready for the big reveal?”

 

“No.”

 

“Well too bad,” Daryl butts in. He uncovers my eyes and I let the light come in.

 

Blinking for a while, I can start to make everyone out. I then turn my attention to my forearm. Covering my mouth with a gasp, my heartbeat quickens. There is an iris on my arm. It has purple in the middle of it and bleeds out into white petals. As the background, in green is the stem and leaves. The tattoo takes up half my arm. It’s so gorgeous I’m completely breathless.

 

“Oh my god,” I breathe out putting my free hand to my chest.

 

T-Dog smirks, “I take it you like it.”

 

I smile, “I love it. Thank you.” I tilt my head to look at Daryl. “Thank you.”

 

He just shrugs his shoulders, “It’s whatever.” I reach out and pull him into a one-armed hug so that I don’t ruin the art on the other arm. He shakes hands with T-Dog and I do the same before we exit the store.


	5. Romantic Clichés

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking a whole new meaning to, "Red Box and Chill".

“Just pick a movie,” I groan leaning against the Redbox machine. “It’s not like you’re paying.”

 

Daryl waves a hand at me, “I know, I know. I don’ know any of this shit.” He scans through every genre while I watch people pass us.

 

I’m inviting Daryl over to my house for the first time since we’ve met three months ago. My reasoning for this is so that I can breathe freely without smelling something god awful and almost vomiting on the spot. Which happened just the other night. The stench in his and his brother’s apartment had gotten to the point it was just hazardous. Must have been that doe they shot down not too long ago.

 

I look at my cuticles as I say with a bored tone, “If you don’t pick soon, I’m just gonna make it my pick and I _know_ you are not going to like what I pick.” He flips me the bird getting a light chuckle out of me. His eyes are squinting as he rubs his chin trying to find something. “Do you need help?”

 

“Jus’ stand there and shut up will ya?” He growls clearly getting annoyed by my badgering. Pushing myself off the machine, I bump him with my hip making him scooch over. “When did ya get so sassy with me?”

 

I click through the genres with him, “Since day one, Mr. Dixon. Since day one.” Humming I look at the genre of movies he’d like. “What do you like?” I look over to him to eye him up and down. “Never mind. I know what you like.” Going straight to the action genre I browse for something that just screams Daryl Dixon.

 

“Don’ know why we gotta do this stupid shit for?” He grunts getting agitated. “We could just go grab something to drink o’er at my place.”

 

“The last time I was at your place I nearly redecorated your living room,” I muttered. “What the hell was that by the way?”

 

He just shakes his head, “Hont’stly, ya don’t wanna know.”

 

Shuddering to myself I decide on a quick dramatic action movie that he might like. After waiting a few more minutes for the DVD’s to pop out we go back to my car. Although it is so much more fun riding on his bike, I prefer my Ford better.

 

“I gotta see what kinda rich white lady setup you’s got goin’ on,” He smirks while rubbing his hands together.

 

Arching a brow, I lean to the side to look at him- still keeping my eyes on the road, “Why?”

 

Gesturing towards town, he goes on, “Ya’ve seen my apartm’nt, right?”

 

“Point taken.”

 

Well, my house isn’t as fancy as he thinks it is. I’ve seen some southern women driving Mercedes and living in a huge two story house with a big front lawn. But to Daryl my house might look like that despite being a one story house with two bedrooms and a big kitchen.

 

“Someone needs ta cut yer grass lady,” Daryl mutters looking out his window at my yard.

 

“Yeah,” I sigh pulling into my driveway and parking. “Philip used to do it on Sundays.”

 

I then see a hand go across my face, “Pay up.”

 

“Shit!” I swear reaching into my purse for a dollar. “You tricked me.”

 

“Yer the one who said it,” He muses. “Not me.”

 

Daryl and I have this ongoing thing where if I mention my ex to him, I have to give him a dollar. So far, he’s twelve dollars richer. It’s a good way to get my mind off the upcoming trial. When I hand him the dollar he gets out with a laugh and I follow him with a shake of my head. I open my front door and my redneck friend doesn’t even hesitate to invite himself in.

 

He whistles while looking around, “Nice digs.” I shrug lightly after closing my door. I then start to show him around. First the living room where we’ll be most of the night, then the kitchen in case he wants to eat something, and of course the bathrooms. “Man, it’s so nice seeing a toilet that Merle hasn’t wrecked.”

 

Gagging I make him stop, “Please. Don’t ever put that image in my head again.” He laughs again turning down the hallway near the bedrooms. “Oh, uh…that’s my room.”

 

The younger Dixon smirks at me, “Don’ want me seein’ yer personals?”

 

He teases me by inching back towards my room. I laugh pulling him away from my room, “Stop. Come on let’s go watch those movies.”

 

Since it is my living room, I set everything up. The DVD player, the movies, even the popcorn and drinks. Finding the remote I drop down next to him with my legs up on my coffee table. He side-glances me and props his feet up as well.

 

“So what the hell are we watchin’?” He grunts folding his arms then tilting his head to the side.

 

Popping some popcorn into my mouth, I speak, “Uhm…some romantic comedy I thought looked good.” I mock groan with him as he makes fun of my choice. “Shut up.”

 

The movie starts off cliché- as Daryl points out, an estranged woman from a small town that moved to the big city, worried about something so unimportant. In this case, she’s worried about finding a date for some big thing for work.

 

“Lemme guess, the guy she’s gonna bring is her best friend,” Daryl calls out with popcorn still in his mouth. He reaches across my chest to smack me with the back of his knuckles. “Le’s see how many clichés they stick in this damn thing.”

 

“Okay,” I chuckle snuggling in further into my couch.

 

He was right about the best friend thing, but they always butt heads, constantly arguing with each other. The woman is then working up to this big career offer that’s she’s been dying to get and the only way to get it is with the right man. The man of her dreams is an ex from a long time ago, so she uses her best friend to make him jealous. Only to reveal that the ex was aiming for the same position as hers, so he hides the fact and starts to use her.

 

Daryl cheers while holding his glass out in front of him, “Some dumbass song with some dumbass makeov’r montage!” We throw our heads back laughing and clapping. “This is trash!”

 

I pause the movie and breathe from my fits of laughter, “Okay! Okay! God, you ruined this for me!” I smack him in the arm before getting up to take the DVD out from the player.

 

“Yer gonna watch it when I leave ain’t ya?”

 

Turning my head over my shoulders, I bat my eyes at him, “What gave me away?” I put the DVD in its case. “Hey. What romantic cliché do you think we fall under?” I sit on the floor looking at him while he thinks.

 

He huffs, “Didn’ think we was in some romantic comedy, but one of those reality movies. Ya know, like Jack Ass.”

 

Rolling my eyes, I put his movie in before getting up and sitting next to him with my feet tucked under me, “No really. If we were in a movie, what cliché are we?”

 

As the action movie theme plays in the background, we consider what we were. Which was? Best friends? I mean, most of my time now is spent with him. I’m not going through some mid-life crisis. Ever since that day we set that box on fire, we’ve just been glued together. Hell, even Merle expects me to come over more often now. He appreciates me hanging out with his friendless brother and keeping him out of trouble. Despite his criminal record, Merle knows what he’s doing when it comes to Daryl.

 

Then again, there’s this growing attraction I’ve been feeling with him lately. He’s rough around the edges but has a gooey center. I mean if he didn’t, he would still be bullying me at the grocery store trying to get some money out of me. Well, he’s still getting money out of me when I mention my ex’s name.

 

My eyes fall to the iris tattoo on my arm. He picked this out for me. Which means he was thinking of me when deciding. He could have chosen so many other things but he chose to pick the flower I was named after. I wonder if he thought that this tattoo was beautiful because he thought I was beautiful.

 

“Hey,” I hear him call.

 

When I look up, Daryl’s leaning over to me. His hand rests on the side of my face and he’s pulling me in. I don’t say no and lean forward. Shifting my body to get closer to him, I feel his breath on my face. Everything around me goes silent as I put my attention on Daryl. He tilts his head a little and I do the same.

 

Then his lips are on mine. Chapped but moist, possibly from him licking them. My eyes close and I just feel his pressure on me. I would have thought it’d be a rough kiss, but it wasn’t. He’s taking his time just to make this moment sweet. My hands slide up his thigh and graze over his chest to rest at the top of his back, which pushes him closer to me.

 

I feel his tongue flick across my lips, wanting this to be deeper. So, I let him. Parting my lips, our mouths mold into each other and it becomes passionate. We’re fully pressed against each other as our mouths meld. He tastes like butter and cigarettes. Not really a good flavor for a first kiss but it’s worth it. Our breathing is matched with how much we needed this. Wanted this.

 

The hand that was on my cheek had moved down to my side and gripping my waist. While his other hand was holding my back, guiding me down to lay on the couch. My legs move from their awkward position to his sides letting him get even closer and further on top of me. Our pelvis’ pressed into each other and it just spurred me on.

 

My hands move from his back to his arms then to his sides. From there I grab the hem of his shirt and start to pull upwards.

 

“Mm!” Daryl groans into my mouth. He pulls away leaving my mouth bare and grabs at my hands. “Don’t.” He sits up and my hands rest on his hips.

 

Staring at him in confusion, I switch to a smirk, “What? We’re just getting to the good part.” I go to tug at his shirt again but he bats my hands away.

 

“Seriously,” He grunts. “Don’t.”

 

“Don’t tell me your shy, Daryl,” I tease with a smile on my lips. I play with the edge of his shirt and that was a wrong move.

 

Daryl full on grabbed my wrists and pushed them off him. He then stood up off me and just marched out of the living room. I sat up alarmed and a bit scared. He marches back towards me with a finger, “I told you don’t! This shit ain’t funny!”

 

“D-Daryl…I’m sorry,” I mutter shyly.

 

“Now yer sorry!” He screams at me making me flinch. All I could do was stare up at him nervously.

 

All the passion and feeling we had going on before was gone. The action movie meant for Daryl has reached the height of it and I couldn’t focus on it with an angry man in my living room.

 

He paces back and forth as if to think of another thing to yell at me about what had happened. Even though, I truly was sorry for not listening. Feeling all the anger and discomfort from him, made my eyes swell up.

 

Daryl lets out a hard breath and barks, “I’m leavin’!”

 

Then he just marches out the front door making is slam hard. While I’m left with a movie night gone wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kinda got away from me. It was supposed to have more meaning to it but I was like nah save it for later.


	6. No Words to Express

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guilty.

I feel like we’ve gone back to how we were four months ago. Except, all the anger and annoyance was directed towards me. I’d see him doing what he usually does at the grocery store; smoking a cigarette and blowing the smoke into customers faces. Only when I come around, he pretends I don’t exist and I pretend like I never spoke to him.

 

The skin bar in town, is just another bar to me with two rednecks living above it. I’ll see Sasha and Abraham walking around town from time to time. They’d wave to me but I don’t see the point when I’m not with Daryl.

 

It just feels like, I’ve lost another man because of some stupid idea I had. So, I go home with my solo groceries and don’t go anywhere for that night. No crazed adventure he’s got cooked up for us. Nothing.

 

I’m starting to wear sleeves now, because if I look at the symbol on my arm I get restless.

 

“Let’s go,” Carol orders me. I only pout at her as I slump in my chair at home. “We haven’t had a coffee date since you were hanging out with Daryl. So, let’s go.”

 

It’s true. Most of my time these past few months was spent with him. Granted I would hang out with Michonne and Carol a few times when Daryl went hunting with Merle. Shaking my head, I get up and follow Carol out my door.

 

At the café, it was like an intervention. They both were spewing relationship nonsense at me. Things like, you don’t just hang out with someone and not expect to feel something. Of course, I get chewed out for not listening to Daryl’s pleas of restraint. Now, I know what it feels like to be an asshole-ish man who can’t take no for an answer. I still shudder at the pure anger he felt towards me.

 

I drop my head to the metal table with a clang and sigh, “I’m such a piece of shit.”

 

“Yeah you are,” Michonne chimes in. I don’t even try to glare at her because we’re both right.

 

Carol rests a hand on top of my head and speaks, “Do you like him?”

 

Tilting my head to the side, I press my cheek into the table, “Yeah…” I sound like a sniveling child hoping for things to turn out good in the end.

 

“Then, Miss Pouty,” She declares. “Do something about it.”

 

“The last time we came up with that idea, I found out my husband was cheating on me for two years. What makes you think this is gonna be better?” I huff.

 

“Because it’s Daryl,” Michonne adds.

 

And she’s right. Being with Daryl after all that I went through kept my world rotating. He made me feel like mattered and that I deserved to be happy. But I threw all that in his face when I decided to make that move.

 

The two are the first to leave since they have normal relationships to get back to. To make matters worse, I get a call from Philip.

 

“How are you?” He asks me.

 

I lean back in my chair and make circles into the table, “I’ve been better.”

 

He breathes, “You sound upset. Are you sure?”

 

I let a small smile fall on my face. There was the Philip I fell for. Always asking if I was okay and knowing when I wasn’t. I answer, “I just had a hard weekend that’s all.”

 

“That’s rough to hear, sweetheart,” He sighs over the phone. “Wanna talk about it?”

 

Do I want to talk about it? Especially to him? Hell, no! I snap back to reality and became aware of what he was doing. He’s trying to sweet talk me out of the trial this weekend!

 

Squinting into my phone even though I know he can’t see me, I hiss, “No. I don’t. So, quit trying to weasel your way out of our divorce.”

 

Then we’re in a screaming match over everything. How he wants his house but it’s plain obvious I’m getting it. The fact that I’m taking most of his savings, even though I deserve it. He’s broken my heart twice and he’s trying to get out of the consequences. I hang up on him and march to my car a new fire burning in my chest. No way in hell am I gonna back down.

 

Two days before the trial, I go to the local farmer’s market to pick up some fresh fruit. I’ve stopped going to the grocery store so that I can put my game face on. It’s also so that I don’t fall weak to Daryl. Right now, I don’t need a man and that’s good. I still beat myself up over what I did but it’s only setting my resolve.

 

“Hi there,” I hear a young voice call out to me.

 

There’s a young girl, probably around nineteen smiling at me. She standing behind a produce stand and I’m drawn in. She has thin platinum blonde hair and a sweetness to her.

 

Smiling I say hello, “Hello. This is my first time to one of these, do you recommend anything?”

 

Leaning forward she points, “If you head over to Mrs. Dreely’s she’s got these pecan cookies that are the best. Then over at Mr. August’s he has some of the sweetest peaches.”

 

Laughing, I correct myself, “No sweetheart. I meant at your stand.”

 

“Bethe,” I hear someone call. Another woman comes up with a stern look. “Are you trying to pawn our customers off to other people’s tables again?” The woman has short brown hair and a face that belongs on a magazine. The young girl, Bethe, smiles shyly and shrugs. The woman shoo’s her way before assisting me. “I’m sorry ma’am. What can I help you with?”

 

“I just want something good,” I smile. “Any ideas?”

 

She then goes through all the fruits and items on their table with me. She introduces herself as Maggie Rhee and I introduce myself to her.

 

“Never seen you round here before,” She explains bagging up my items. “What made you decide to stop by?”

 

Sighing, I say, “Guy trouble.”

 

“So, you come to a farmer’s market to avoid that?”

 

“It’s either this or the city,” I state. “There’s this guy I know. He always hangs out in front of my grocery store causing problems for people for no reason. We…were friends but we got into a fight over a mistake I made.” My eyes drop to the grain in the table thinking of what I was talking about to her.

 

Maggie puts a hand on my arm, “I’m sorry to hear…. wait. Is this guy… Daryl Dixon?”

 

Blushing hard, I sputter, “How… how did you know?”

 

“There’s only one man I can think of that harasses people in front of a grocery store and it’s that redneck,” She grins. “So, that means you’re Daryl’s Iris.”

 

“What does that mean!” I say all to embarrassed.

 

She waves a hand, “My husband Glenn is good friends with him for some reason. Whenever he’s on break delivering a pizza he always manages to sneak the Dixon’s a slice or two.”

 

“Yup,” I say with a face. “Sounds like him alright. But, how do you know me?”

 

“Oh my gosh, honey,” She breathes. “Glenn goes on and on about Daryl talking about an Iris. I keep thinking the man’s taken up botany or was out looking for iris’ in the wild.” Maggie quirks a brow at me and smiles. “He’s clearly head over for you.”

 

I cover my face to hide my embarrassment. This can’t be real. He’s mad at me and I’m…I don’t know. I know I have feelings for him but the weight of guilt sitting on my chest outweighs everything.

 

Maggie moves my hands out of my face, “You know, he’s hurting right? A lot of internal stuff. Maybe you should go talk to him.”

 

“Thank you,” I breathe. “For everything.”

 

This was a stupid idea. Coming all the way to the bar to his apartment where he can easily shut me out from. I’m pacing back and forth at the bottom of his stairs thinking of a better solution.

 

“If I just talk to him,” I mumble. “No, no…he’ll just ignore me. I can’t force him to talk to me and I definitely can’t just barge in…Oh what the hell am I doing here?” I grip the side of my head.

 

“’Ey!”

 

Gasping, I look up. Daryl’s leaning against his railing with a lit cigarette in his hand, the light from his apartment shining behind him.

 

Chuckling nervously, “Eh heh….uh…h-how long you been standing there?”

 

He puts the cigarette to his lips, “When ya was ramblin’ to yerself.” Great. I look like a crazy person to him now. “Come on up.” He’s not shutting me out. Nervously, I make my climb up to his apartment. We don’t go inside since he clearly went out to have a cigarette. “What d’ya need?”

 

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” I state propping myself against the wall just behind him. Grasping my hands together, they rest on my thighs. From my spot, I watch the smoke from his cigarette float in the air.

 

“And?” The man continues.

 

I cast my eyes to the landing and sigh, “I’m really sorry about last time. You said no and I didn’t realize it hurt you that much.”

 

A silence falls between us. The sound of the music below and the loud sound of crickets fill the air. There’s nothing more than just sorry I have to say to him. I’m sure there’s nothing he wants to say to me.

 

“Would ya come o’er ‘ere so I can get a look at ya?” Blinking at the back of his head, he’s looking off to the right as if to tell me to stand there. Pushing myself off from the wall, I stand a good distance away from him. “Yer too far.” He grabs my arm gently and tugs me closer so that our shoulders touched.

 

Daryl hasn’t let go of my arm. In fact, his hand is resting on my forearm like he’s trying to hold me there. The stillness of the night, with the moon bathing us in its light felt so peaceful. I rested my head on his shoulder and he placed his atop mine. His left hand was held far from us as to keep the smoke out my face, which I appreciate.

 

“My old man,” He starts. Listening, my eyes move up to get a look at him. “He was… he was a bastard. Always drinking, always cursin’ and always wantin’ to fight someone. Me and Merle weren’t sure if it was of ma or jus’ the drink.” He lets out a sigh. “Somedays he’d come home and jus’ sleep. Other days he’d jus’ … want to fight.”

 

I nudge my head and he moves his as I straighten to look at him, “Daryl…” He looks to me with sad eyes. “You don’t have to tell me this.”

 

All he does is smile, look down to the arm he was holding on to and let a thumb stroke the skin, “I’s fine. I’m fine.” I put my free hand on top of the hand resting on my arm and squeeze it lightly. “I was jus’ a kid when he’d beat Merle, so I didn’t know what was goin’ on.” He puts the cigarette to his lips and takes a quick drag. The smoke leaves his mouth as he talks, “Then when Merle left, guess who took all the ass beatin’?”

 

A knot forms between my brows as I try not to cry. The pain he’s been through and the abuse doesn’t deserve my tears of pity. He’s pouring his soul out for me and I can’t.

 

“The reason,” Daryl continues. “I didn’ want ya pullin’ up my shirt was cuz I didn’ want you ta see what he’d done ta me.” I squeeze his hand again only tighter. “Felt like, if ya saw them, ya wouldn’t want me no more.”

 

“Daryl…” I whisper. He uses the back of his other hand to quickly wipe at the tears forming. “…you know I love you, right?” A shaky breath leaves his lips. “I don’t care about your scars or your past. Your past made you the man you are today. Made you the man standing right here with me.” He drops his head, turns towards me to embrace me. He puts his head into the crook of my neck while I lean mine against his. I look up when I see his shoulders shake as he sobs lightly into my shoulder. I don’t hush him. I just gently stroke his back.

 

When he was done, Daryl just stayed in this position for a few minutes. I wait patiently for him to be ready to move.

 

“Ya know,” He says into my collar bone. I move my eyes to the top of his head. “Ya have some shitty taste in men.”

 

This elicits a laugh from me. He moves his head to look at me with a stupid grin on his face. I move my hands to hold his face and say, “Yeah, but I like you more than my last shitty guy.” I lean up and kiss him. Only to pull back, “But I’m not loving the tobacco flavor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed an excuse to put Glenn and Maggie in here and what do you know they were a plot device. I think this is one of my shortest fics.


	7. Execution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm a free woman!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just like the hunting chapter, I had a hard time with this. Mainly because I don't know what goes on during a divorce hearing.

The day of the trial couldn’t be any more depressing. I mean, there are literal rainclouds hanging over the courthouse as I enter. I suggested that Daryl come, but he vetoed against it since he was sure he had some wanted posters. Laughing to myself, I brought Rick with me instead. A recently divorced man is just what I need to help me get through this nonsense of a trial.

 

“Ya got all your paperwork?” Rick asks now of all times.

 

I let a breath out and nod, “Yeah, they’re in my satchel. My lawyer is already inside waiting for us.”

 

The law man nods and we walk up the steps into the courthouse. Inside were antique paintings depicting former trials of some sort or just a man on a horse looking proud for his country. Knowing the Dixons, Merle would be the first to either say something ridiculous about the art and décor or just go about trying to deface anything.

 

I see my lawyer, Andrea waiting for us by one of the court rooms. She has long blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She is a strong woman who understands why I was here today. She is usually a civil rights attorney but just for today and possibly future endeavors with Philip, she is my lawyer.

 

“Good morning, Miss…um,” She falters.

 

“Kipling.”

 

“Yes, Kipling,” Andrea adds on. “And this is?”

 

“Rick Grimes,” Rick introduces extending his hand out for a handshake. “I’m here for moral support.”

 

My lawyer nods her head while shaking his hand, “Very kind of you sir. I have looked over every bit of your demands when your divorce is finalized and I believe we have a chance to get exactly what you want.”

 

I smile and tell that it was good to hear that. We discuss a few more matters regarding the trial before walking into the court. There aren’t any people since it was only between Philip and I. Speaking of, he was sitting at one of the tables provided talking to who I assume is his lawyer. Rick sits down in one of the benches just behind my table.

 

Andrea and I walk through the doors leading to the floor and sit at my table.

 

“Iris,” I hear Philip call to me.

 

I look over to him uninterested, “Philip.”

 

I’m guessing the situation of us being in this courtroom finally dawned on him. There wasn’t any weaseling out, no cheap words to convince me. Just a small nod as if to say hello. I turn my head forward and wait for everything to start. Andrea talks with me softly about some more paperwork and what to expect from this trial.

 

The bailiff walks in making everyone rise before the judge. The judge is an African American man in his late forties, a gentle look in his eyes but a stern air around him. He walks up to his chair and tells everyone to have a seat.

 

“Good Morning everyone,” He says. “I am your Judge Morgan Jones.” Our judge then proceeds to look through the paperwork provided to him. “Miss. Kipling, I see you didn’t hesitate to change your last name back your maiden name.” He smiles lightly to me as I nod. “It says here that you are the one filing for divorce from your husband Philip Blake. Is this correct?”

 

“Yes, your honor,” I answer.

 

“And Mr. Blake,” Judge Jones calls to. “You are accepting the divorce in exchange for no alimony charges. Is this correct?”

 

“Yes, your honor,” Philip answers.

 

Judge Jones shuffles through his papers some more before speaking again, “Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, I believe we have come to a solution.” This announcement made the whole room tense up.

 

Walking out of the courtroom was like a breath of fresh air. After Judge Jones announced a compromise, the room began a small debate over what each party wanted. From the after-math I’m guessing I won because it feels like I got everything I asked for. I thank Andrea for her hard work and she thanks me for hiring her for the case.

 

Rick and I stand on the stairs to stretch out legs. We were surprisingly in that court room for a long time.

 

Rick looks to me, “Well, it’s over I guess.”

 

Turning my head I smile at him, “Yeah it is.” We pause for a second. There’s this inkling feeling I’m getting in the back of my head that’s leaving a weird feeling in my spine. Like there’s something waiting to be noticed. “…how long did it take you to realize that…that it was really over?”

 

“God knows how long it took me,” He answers running a hand over his face. “I didn’t have Michonne when it happened. You, you have Daryl. Finding someone else to fall for helps you get back on your feet.”

 

I turn and hug Rick tight thanking him for helping me and for being here to support me. Carol and him, are the only two who could possibly understand what I’ve been through the past few months.  

 

“Iris.”

 

A familiar voice calls from behind me and I reluctantly turn to face him. Philip is standing a few feet away from me. He looks apologetic. Rick asks if I wanted to leave but I tell him it was fine. I hand him my bag before going over to Philip.

 

Walking over, I speak, “Philip.”

 

“I just…” He starts. “I just want to apologize for hurting you. I never should have cheated on you.”

 

“But you did,” I mutter under my breath through strained teeth.

 

Philip just gives me a look and I shrug with a small smile. He continues, “I admit I wasted eight years of our marriage in one night and I regret that. Even now after everything was finalized.” All I do is stand there and listen to his apology. “I still love you and I hope somehow you still love me even after you’ve moved on.” He then kisses my cheek leaving me speechless.

 

What the hell just happened? My ex just apologized to me. I surely would have thought he would have been bitter about everything. He knows I’m the one who’s angry and yet he said something so sweet to me.

 

“’Ey!”

 

Now that is a voice that will always make me smile. I move my attention away from Philip towards that voice. At the bottom of the steps of the courthouse, Daryl sat on his bike looking up at me. Oh god, he saw that whole scene, didn’t he? He wouldn’t be jealous of the man I’ve cut ties with, right?

 

“Daryl!” I call to and sprint down the steps. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I came to pick ya up,” He says with a small smile. His head tilts to the side, clearly looking at Philip. “To let ya kn’w.” Daryl’s focus comes back to me. “He looks like a douche.”

 

I snort out a laugh, “Well, you were never wrong. Wait here. Rick’s got my purse.” I peck his cheek before sprinting up the stairs.

 

“Really?”

 

When I go up to Rick to get my bag, Philip has this insulted smug look. He has his hands on his hips and scuffs his shoes before shifting his stance.

 

“What?” I snap.

 

He chuckles darkly, “You’ve moved on already? And with _him_? Wow.”

 

I thank Rick one more time and tell him when we should hang out again. He tells me that he wasn’t gonna go anywhere until he was sure it was okay for me to leave. Even when not on duty, he’s still protecting someone.

 

Checking the contents of my bag, I walk up to Philip one more time. I tilt my head at him and say, “Philip. You were never a good husband. Sure, maybe when we first got married, but even still you weren’t.” I let out a laugh. “Thank god, we didn’t have any children! Because I don’t think I would let something like that be brought up around a man like you.” I start to size him up despite him being taller than me. “You may have your charms. You may have your sweet talk. You can tell me you still love me and expect me to still have even a shred of feeling left for you.  You can try.” I scoff at him. “But baby, I moved on. And I’m happy.”

 

I pull my hands up and do the last wifely thing to him, fix his tie. I grin when its straight, “And you should too. Because Daryl, he’s more of the man I need than you’ll ever be.”

 

Finally, that strong nagging feeling I was feeling moments ago, disappeared. The setting feeling that everything was over between us felt good and refreshing. I go down the steps towards Daryl who gave me a slow clap- to which I bowed to, and climbed on the back of his bike. The contraption roared to life and we were speeding down the street towards home.

 

At home, I crash down onto my couch letting out a long breath. Daryl walks over, swats my feet out of the way and sits down. There I rest my feet on his lap and just look at him.

 

“So…” I start with a smirk. “I’m single now. There’s no wedding ring on my finger anymore.”

 

He smirks at me as well, “Is that so?” He rubs my calves gently moving upwards. “Tha’s too bad. I liked it when ya was still all ov’r what’s-his-fuck. Was kinda hot.”

 

I giggle a little when he squeezes the backs of my thighs. Daryl’s now climbing over me with a sly smile and I mimic the look. My hands move from their stationary positions at my sides and travel up Daryl’s arms to rest on his shoulders. He lean’s down and places a kiss on my lips. Hint of tobacco, means he had maybe three cigarettes today.

 

He pulls away first. He moves his arms so that his elbows were framing my head and he was just few inches above me. We stay there for a few minutes just looking at each other.

 

My fingers play with the ends of his hair and I whisper, “You need a haircut.”

 

He whispers back getting close again, “Yer not comin’ at me with no clippers.”

 

I laugh loud when he goes to kiss my neck and I wrap my arms around his neck. He makes stupid kissy sounds which makes me laugh more.

 

This feels right. This is what a normal relationship is. Even though we started off picking fights with each other at the local grocery store. People there still find it weird that Daryl wasn’t bullying them as much.

 

When I get to look at his face again, I whisper, “I love you.”

 

I watch his eyes dance across my face before saying, “Love ya too.”


End file.
